Chapter 8
ASTRID
The door clicks shut behind Agent Spalding, thick silence following in his absence.
My heart is pounding in my ears. Not from fear exactly, but more like from the whiplash of being studied, sized up, and dismissed by a man with federal authority.
I turn back to Yuri. He’s leaning back in the chair like Spalding’s visit was merely an inconvenience, not a threat. But I can see the tension set in his jaw. The slight twitch in his fingers before he steeples them together.
“You okay?” he asks, voice low and deceptively soft. It reminds me of his tone on the plane, when he wanted to calm me down.
“I’m fine.”
The response is automatic and we both know it’s a lie. He doesn’t challenge me. Just looks at me like I’m a data set that returned an unexpected value.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “That guy wasn’t here for updates.”
Yuri’s mouth lifts at one corner—dry, humorless. “No, he wasn’t. He was here to make a point.”
I take a few cautious steps toward the desk, clutching my laptop with the portfolio I never got the chance to finish reading.
“Does that happen often?” I ask, watching his expression closely.
He tilts his head, eyes narrowing like he’s weighing how much to give me. “Only when someone’s trying too hard to catch us slipping.”
Us. Not me. Us. Interesting.
He studies me for a second, and I resist the urge to fidget. There’s something in the way he looks at me that sets my nerves on edge.
In response, I arch an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type who slips.”
He chuckles softly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’d be surprised.”
His tone is almost wistful. I don’t know what to do with that.
I sit back down and open the portfolio again. My fingers feel clumsy, like they’re over aware of themselves. Still, I push through.
“So I’m guessing this is the part where I pretend not to notice half the people around here carry guns under their blazers?”
Yuri’s expression sharpens, but he doesn’t answer right away. “You’re observant,” he says at last. “I like that.”
I meet his gaze. “You have to be in this field.”
There’s a beat of silence before he stands and walks to the far side of the room, pushing a small button beside the window. The motorized blinds hum softly as they descend, blocking out the skyline.
“Too exposed,” he says.
I don’t know if he means the windows or the conversation.
He turns back to me, and for the first time all morning, he appears less like a high-powered executive and more like the man I met six weeks ago. The man who touched me like he already knew my body. The man who made me come harder than I ever have in my life.
I find myself studying him—his straight posture, the tension in his neck, the way his tie is loosened just slightly like he’s come undone a bit since Spalding left.
“How did you get my resume?” I blurt out.
“Through a contact at Harvard.”
“And what made you call me in for this interview?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches me with a calculating calm that drives me crazy.
When he finally speaks, it’s quiet, soft. “I think you’ve already proven you deserved the chance.”
“That’s not an answer,” I snap.
“It’s the only one I’m giving.”
He takes a step closer. Then another until he’s standing right in front of me.
My breath catches. I try to laugh it off, to deflect. “Are all your job interviews this intense?”
“Only when the candidate is so damn irresistible.”
The words hit me square in the chest.
I should say something and back away. I should remember why I’m here, who I’m supposed to be.
But I don’t.
I stare up at him. He looks down at me like he’s about to do something reckless.
Again.
He doesn’t move to kiss me, not at first. Doesn’t pounce like the man who lured me into an airplane bathroom and made me forget how oxygen works.
No. He waits. Watches. Calculates.
I reach for the folder on the desk—something to ground myself—and his fingers brush mine. A whisper of skin on skin. A spark. Completely accidental.
Except it’s not. My pulse rockets.
Yuri’s eyes flick to mine before lowering his gaze. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m not,” I say too fast.
He tilts his head, stepping closer still. He doesn’t touch me, but I feel his heat like a fire. His hand lifts to my waist. Steady. Warm. Anchoring.
He leans in. Just slightly. Just enough.
“I can tell when someone’s afraid,” he says softly.
I don’t know what to say. I should be terrified. This man could destroy me—with one look, one kiss.
But I’m not scared.
And I can’t stop staring at his mouth. I lean in.
He kisses me.
Not a question. Not a request.
A claim.
It’s not gentle. It’s not slow. It’s heat and lust and every terrible, forbidden thing I promised myself I wouldn’t want again. Couldn’t want again.
My hands find his chest as his grip tightens at my waist. I feel his hunger and restraint pulling at opposite ends of a wire I know is going to snap.
He tastes the same. Like danger disguised in charm. Like everything I was never supposed to touch.
My heart pounds so loud it silences any rational thought. I melt into him, forgetting everything else.
There’s only this man. This fire.
Until—
A knock. Sharp. Precise. Intentional. The door cracks open.
“Sorry to interrupt,” says a voice like poisoned sugar. “Agenda review?”
I jerk back like I’ve just been electrocuted.
Yuri straightens instantly, control snapping into place like armor. The man who kissed me disappears, replaced by the executive with ice in his veins.
A woman glides in without waiting for permission. Tall. Blonde. Red lips and red heels that could kill a man. Her smile is prim and professional. She gives me a once-over, her level of interest at a negative one.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything… sensitive.” The pause before the word sensitive is deliberate.
I force a tight smile. “Just reviewing expense reports.” I move to gather my things with trembling fingers and some scrap of dignity. “I’ll give you two some space.”
“But it’s your office,” the woman replies, an amused tone to her voice. “Or, at least, it might end up being your office.”
“It’s fine. I’ll check out the break room.”
Yuri says nothing, his eyes never leaving me. I leave quickly, my heels echoing down the marble corridor.
As I walk away, I hear the woman’s voice, “She’s…audacious.”
I don’t wait for his answer.
I just keep walking, pulse thudding in my ears, throat tight with something I refuse to name.